“I really wish I was on vacation right now. You have no idea how much I wish that.”

“I have a slight idea.”

“How’s our best boy today?”

“He’s fine. Playing video games with Ethan, and I’m taking all three of them skating after a while.”

“You aren’t skating too, are you?”

“Maybe a little. Abby needs some help.”

“Be careful. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you. Where are you right now?”

“Heading to the house where the pictures of Brooke were posted online.”

“By yourself?”

“No. Gonzo and Freddie are going too. And Hill’s team.”

“Of course Hill’s going.”

“Lalala, can’t hear you. Gotta go.”

“Love you, babe, even when you’re being obstinate.”

“Why thank you. Love you too.”

She ended the call with a smile on her face. Talking to him almost always made her happier than she’d ever been in her life. When she thought about the four miserable years she’d spent with her ex-husband, Peter, that life felt like a million years ago compared to what she had now with Nick. A year ago today, she would’ve scoffed at the words “soul mate,” but now that she’d found hers she wasn’t so cynical anymore.

* * *

Nick placed a call to his close friend Derek Kavanaugh. Derek’s friends were glad to see him getting back to some semblance of normal after the tragic loss of his wife, Victoria. When the call went to Derek’s voice mail, Nick took a chance and dialed the White House. It wasn’t unusual for Derek to be at work on a Sunday, even now that he was a single father to his daughter, Maeve.

After identifying himself to Derek’s administrative assistant, Nick was placed on hold, which gave him time to think about the entertaining conversation he’d had with his wife. He hated to admit that she was right about the marital double standard. He was guilty of failing to tell her a few key things recently, and he knew he had to do better lest she slip back into her old pattern of keeping just about everything that had the potential to be even slightly upsetting from him.

In her line of work, upsetting things happened all the time, and he wanted to know about them, not be kept in the dark. It was only fair that he practice what he preached.

“Good morning, Senator,” Derek said when he came on the line. His friend resorted to formality when they spoke to each other in a work capacity. In the time they spent together away from work, Nick insisted on first names. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Mr. Kavanaugh,” Nick said with equal formality. “I’m reaching out to you in your official capacity to ask how the media might’ve caught wind of the fact that your boss recently made me an offer that I turned down.”